Call It Magic
by bigbadwolfygirl
Summary: Set one year after Sam and Dean graduate from East Texas University, Sam and Dean are building a life together in San Jose, California.
1. Chapter 1

One Year Later

"Sammy? I'm home!" Dean calls as he steps over the threshold. He drops his duffel next to his hockey gear on the floor by the front door and heads down the hallway towards the kitchen. His sneakers squeak on the hardwood floor and he winces, knowing Sam would be annoyed with him for wearing shoes in the house. He goes back to the doorway and toes his shoes off onto the rug. Turning, he sees Sam standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

"You're baking?" Dean asks, raising an eyebrow and giving Sam's flour covered apron a once-over. He's got a piece of dough in his hair. "Pie?"

"Yeah. Or, I'm trying to."

"What did you break?" Dean asks, crossing his arms. "You never bake."

"I didn't break anything! What, I can't bake for my boyfriend when he gets home from a long week of away games?" Sam replies sarcastically, also crossing his arms.

"The last time you baked it was because you threw the wii remote through the flat screen playing baseball. The time before that you backed your truck over the mailbox. And when you dropped my iPod in the pool you-"

"Alright, alright," Sam cuts Dean off, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He takes another step closer to Dean. "But I promise I didn't break anything. How was the flight?"

"It was good. Slept for most of it. Come here." Dean and Sam meet in the middle of the hall, arms wrapping around each other's waists. "Six days is too many. I missed you."

Sam bends slightly and presses three quick kisses to Dean's cheeks, across the dusting of freckles that spans the bridge of his nose. In return, Dean kisses both dimples on Sam's cheeks. They always save these special kisses for when Dean comes home from a long trip.

"Okay, so maybe you were right about the pie." Sam pulls back slightly, and Dean cocks his head, waiting for the rest, a resigned expression on his face. "Just hear me out. I know how you feel about it, but it's not for very long. And, I couldn't resist." Sam gives a quick whistle, and Dean groans.

Out of the living room bounds a huge German Shepherd. It skids to halt at Sam's feet and immediately sits. Sam unwraps himself from around Dean's waist and squats, rubbing the dog's head. The dog whines as it bounces and wags its tail.

"This is Sarge. Dean, you should have seen him. He was abandoned, tied to a fence in some back alley. The Humane Society found him. He just needs a foster home. Just for a couple more weeks, until he's back in full health and finished with the antibiotics. He's totally housebroken and trained. Can we please keep him? Please?!" Sam finishes his speech, which he had definitely not been rehearsing for the last two hours. He's now sitting cross-legged on the floor, and the dog has crawled his way onto Sam's lap. Dean frowns down at the pair of them, trying to hold in his laughter as Sarge tries to eat the dough from Sam's hair.

"He is NOT sleeping in the bed with us," Dean finally concedes, bending down to rub the top of the dog's head. Sam beams up at him, wrapping his arms around the dog's neck and squeezing it against his chest.

"Thank you! Hear that, Sarge, you can stay!" Dean finally chuckles as the dog licks his tongue from Sam's chin to his hairline.

The dog lays quietly between their feet as Sam and Dean eat dinner at the kitchen table.

"Well, at least he's well trained," Dean admits over his slice of Pecan pie. Sarge had remained quiet the entire meal, never leaving his post under the table. Most dogs would be begging for their food.

"Yeah, I guess whoever had him sure put some time into training him. I don't get why they would leave such a gorgeous dog to die like that. He's gained so much weight since he got here. You should have seen the poor guy," Sam tells him, his voice cracking a little bit.

"It's okay, Sammy. He's in a good place now. And I'm sure they will place him in a great

home once he's all better."

"I know," Sam replies, giving Dean a small smile.

"Did you name him Sarge?"

"Yeah. He didn't have a name at the shelter, and he's so well trained; it seemed fitting," Sam says with a shrug.

"I like it. Good strong name," Dean replies.

"Hey, let's take him to the park. Unless you're too tired?" Sam asks, considering the fact that Dean had just had a very long flight back from New York.

"Park sounds good to me," Dean says, pushing away his empty plate. Sam jumps up from the table, and Dean laughs as he follows suit. Sarge bounces after Sam as the three of them head to the front door, pausing only to slide on their sneakers. Sam grabs a baseball bat and ball from the front hall closet and they are out the door.

"Doesn't he need a leash or something?" Dean calls from the front porch and Sam and Sarge pad down the front walk.

"Nope! Come on!" Sam reaches the sidewalk and pats the side of his leg. Dean watches as Sarge immediately takes his place right beside Sam. Sarge never leaves Sam's side as they walk to the park, Sam's fingers laced between Dean's, the baseball bat over his shoulder. "See, he's a great dog."

"Babe, I already said he can stay, you don't need to keep trying to convince me," Dean says, laughing and bumping his shoulder against Sam's. They reach the park at the end of their street and head for the small baseball diamond.

"Watch this," Sam tells Dean, letting go of his hand and pulling the baseball out of his jacket pocket. He steps away, clicking his tongue at Sarge. The dog assumes his position, standing next to Dean, nose forward, one paw in the air, as though he's about to take flight. Sam tosses the ball up in the air then cracks it with the bat, sending it flying sky high towards the outfield. Sarge takes off running, faster than any dog Dean's ever seen. He lets the ball bounce once, then leaps into the air and catches it, immediately running back towards Sam.

"Woah, he's fast," Dean admits with a low whistle. Sam's beaming as Sarge runs up to him, dropping the ball at Sam's feet and bouncing in anticipation.

They spend the next hour in the park, until Sarge finally shows some signs of slowing down. Sarge walks next to Dean as they slowly head back home, enjoying the slight chill of the night and the cloudless sky full of stars.

When they finally climb into bed, Sarge dutifully lays down in front of the bedroom door, nose poking out into the hallway, as if he's guarding them. When Dean gives Sam a quizzical look, Sam just shrugs before rolling onto his side and curling himself around Dean's back.

"Missed you," he whispers against the back of Dean's head. Dean pulls Sam's arms tighter around him as he settles against the pillows.

"Missed you more."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean pushes the cart forward with his hips, typing furiously at the screen of his blackberry as he responds to a message from Jo. Sam is bent over and examining the selection of barbeque sauces. He reaches out and catches the front of the cart before Dean runs him over.

"What kind of sauce should we get? There's too many choices," Sam says, straightening up and looking at Dean. Seeing the phone glued to Dean's hands, he pegs Dean with a skeptical look at taps his foot impatiently while he waits for Dean to finish. When Dean finally looks up and sees Sam's expression, he immediately looks guilty.

"Sorry, Sammy. Jo's trying to book her flight. What's up? Barbeque sauce," Dean realizes as Sam holds up 4 different bottles. "Um, I don't know. Just get all of them? That way everyone has a choice."

Sam shrugs and drops the bottles into the cart with the various vegetables and meats. They scoot around to the next aisle, Sam dragging the cart behind him and Dean texting away.

"How many people are coming to this again?" Dean asks, finally sticking his phone in his pocket, much to Sam's relief.

"Well there's probably twenty people from the firm, and then Cas, Meg, Jo, and however many guys from the team," Sam replies, scanning the cans of baked beans on the shelves in front of him.

"Okay, so forty-ish people. So what are we thinking for buns? I'd rather have extra than run out," Dean adds, mentally calculating in his head. "Multiples of eight, right? So thirty-two of each? Or should we get more hamburgers than hot dogs? Why are we throwing this party again?"

Sam rolls his eyes and smiles over at Dean.

"Because it's going to be fun, and we haven't had a party in the new house, and because you love me, and I want to party!" Sam replies, and Dean laughs at the happy puppy expression on his face.

"Alright, well then you can figure out how many buns to get," Dean tells him, rolling his eyes as Sam sticks his tongue out at him. "I'm gonna go get a pretzel. You want one?"

"No, babe I'm good," Sam replies, concentrating once more on the two large cans of beans he's holding.

"I'll meet you at the buns," Dean says, and Sam flashes him a quick smile before turning back to the beans.

* * *

The Fourth of July falls on a gorgeously sunny Friday. Dean mans the barbeque, beer in hand, while Sam socializes and plays host. Half the party has already given in to the heat and jumped into the pool. Sarge provides entertainment as he jumps into the pool, splashing everyone on his way to the steps in the shallow end. He climbs out, a goofy grin on his face, then runs back to the deep end to jump in again.

Jo is soaking up the attention of three of Dean's teammates, all of whom are definitely single, Jo made sure to find out right away. Jo and Mark had broken up a few months ago, and Jo was already trying to move on. Dean shakes his head and smiles as he watches her flirting with the three men. Luckily, they were all good guys, or Dean would have played the big brother card and told them to get lost.

"Everything looks good, babe," Sam says, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and planting a kiss behind his ear. Dean grins, turning his head to kiss Sam's hair.

"Burgers are almost done. Is everyone eating?" Dean asks, and Sam nods against the side of his neck. Sam kisses Dean's neck, his tongue darting out discreetly to taste the salty sweat glistening in the sun.

"Well aren't you two the picture of domestication," comes a voice from behind them, and both men turn in surprise. Cas has just stepped through the sliding glass door onto the porch, Meg following just behind him, a happy baby boy in her arms.

"There's my favorite Nephew!" Dean coos, setting down his beer and crossing the deck to wrap both Meg and Nathaniel in his arms. "How was the flight?" Dean kisses Meg on the cheek before taking Nathaniel out of her arms and holding him up. Nathaniel giggles and waves his arms.

"Wow he's gotten so big!" Sam exclaims, hugging Cas and then Meg before he tickles Nathaniel's stomach.

"It was a great flight, Nate fell asleep right after take-off and slept the entire way," Meg replies, obvious relief and admiration of their son in her voice. "Who's dog?"

"Sam's," Dean tells her, taking a step back with Nathaniel as Sarge comes barreling over to greet the new guests. Sam snaps his fingers and Sarge sits docily at his feet, allowing both Cas and Meg to pet his wet head. "Watch what I taught him."

Dean gives Sarge a stern look, telling him in a stage shout "incoming!" Cas, Meg, and the other various guests on the deck laugh as Sarge drops to his stomach and covers his face with his paws.

"Smart dog!" Cas says with a laugh. Sam offers both of them a beer, as well as Dean when he notices Dean's empty bottle. Meg and Sam then go into the house with Nathaniel to move their bags into the guest bedroom and get changed into swimsuits. Jo was sleeping on the futon in the office tonight.

"Man, it's good to see you looking so happy," Cas tells Dean, clinking the neck of his bottle against Dean's as they stand by the barbeque. "You look good."

"Thanks, Cas," Dean replies self consciously, glancing down at his white button up and khaki shorts. He had quickly rolled the sleeves up to his elbows when he got a feel for how warm of a day it was becoming. Sam had apparently taught Sarge to do his business in the far back corner of the lot, behind the shed, so Dean felt comfortable walking around the backyard in bare feet. Sam had opted for something more casual, wearing a grey v-neck t-shirt over light green plaid shorts. Most of the guests were in t-shirts and shorts, with a few guys from Sam's office opting for button downs with the sleeves rolled. Most of the women were in short shorts or sun dresses.

Dean introduces Cas around to the team as Meg and Sam play in the shallow end of the pool with Nathaniel, who giggles hysterically every time Sarge belly-flops into the deep end. They catch up, although there isn't much to say. Dean and Cas email at least once a week, but Sam and Meg talk almost every day. Sam has thousands of pictures of Nathaniel on his phone, and shows them to Dean as they lay in bed at night. Every time Dean hears Sam's voice swell with pride at little Nate's accomplishments, like the time Sam showed him the video of Nathaniel rolling over seven times, Dean thinks to himself how much he wants to give Sam a child of his own someday.

That night, the Neighborhood Association puts on a big, and expensive, Dean grumbles under his breath to Jo, fireworks display. Everyone lays on blankets and towels in the grass to watch the fireworks overhead. Sam folds his arms behind his head, Dean's head on his stomach and Meg's on his thigh. Sarge was curled up against Cas's side next to Meg. Cas held the baby monitor against his ear the whole time, but Nathaniel slept through the entire show.

As the fireworks burst overhead, Dean rolled over onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows to stare down at Sam. The huge grin on Sam's face made him chuckle.

"You throw a great party, babe," Dean whispers, leaning in close enough to tickle Sam's ear with his breath. Sam laughs as he turns his head to catch Dean's lips with his own. He wraps one hand around the back of Dean's neck, pulling him close. Dean leans on Sam's chest as they make out under the bright flashes and loud booms.

* * *

The next morning, Dean flips pancakes on the stove while Sam cuts up watermelon and cantaloupe. Cas and Meg join them first, looking as sleepy as Nathaniel squirms happily in Cas's arms. Dean raises his eyebrow at Jo as she wanders into the kitchen, followed closely by Justin, who plays left wing for the Sharks. Jo blushes, mouthing an apology and a 'nothing happened' to Dean when Justin wasn't looking. Dean shrugged. Of all the guys on his team, Justin was probably one of the better choices.

Sam took Nathaniel from Cas, nuzzling raspberries against the baby's neck as Cas and Dean carried platters of food out to the deck, followed by Meg and Jo with coffee and juices. Justin said a hasty thank you to form and Dean, gave Jo a quick kiss on the cheek, and excused himself to go to a family function.

"Hey Dean, Sam," Cas began around a mouthful of pancake, "can we ask you guys a favor?"

"Yeah, of course. What's up?" Dean replied.

"The company is putting on a retreat in a couple weeks. And by retreat I mean three nights in Vegas." Sam chuckles as he bites a grape in half to feed to Nathaniel. "We were going to ask my parents but Meg was thinking you guys might like to watch Nate for the weekend?"

"Which weekend is that?" Sam asks, breaking off a small piece of cantaloupe and handing it to Nate.

"The first of August, until the fourth. Does that work for you?" Meg says, glancing from Sam to Dean.

"Yeah, that works for me. Season doesn't start up again until October so I can take that weekend off from practice," Dean replies, grinning at Sam as his face lights up.

"Oh, this is going to be so much fun. You're going to be so spoiled by Uncle Dean and Uncle Sam, aren't you?" Sam coos in the babies ear. His hair flops forward, and Nathaniel reaches up to grab two huge fistfuls. Everyone, including Nate, burst into laughter as Meg tries to rescue Sam's hair from the baby's grasp.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean groaned, squinting his eyes against the bright stripes of sunlight across his face. He rolls over, reaching blindly and sighing contentedly when his fingertips brush the smooth skin of Sam's shoulder. He peels open one eye, scooting forward to press his stomach into Sam's hip. Dean lays his head on Sam's bare back and breathes in deeply through his nose. He drags one fingernail lightly from mole to mole, tracing out constellations in the stars of Sam's skin. Sam doesn't stir, face down in the pillows, his hair fanned out in a chocolate halo.

Sighing quietly, Dean rolls away from Sam and slips out of the bed. He looks around when Sarge isn't in his usual spot in the doorway and finds him laying on the floor next to Sam's side of the bed. Sarge stares up at Dean's confused expression, his head raised so that Sam's palm lays on the top of his head. The corner of Dean's mouth twitches up in a smile at the sight.

_Damn dog is growing on me_, he thinks as he pads down the hallway towards the kitchen. He pulls the carafe from under the percolator and fills it with water. Dumping it into the top of the coffee machine, he stifles a yawn. When he bends to get the coffee grounds from the cupboard, he forgets the open cabinet above him and hits the corner of it with the top of his head. He swears loudly before remembering that Sam is still sleeping down the hall. Sam shuffles into the kitchen a few minutes later, Sarge on his heels.

"Shit, did that wake you up? Sorry." Sam just shrugs as he grabs a mug from the cabinet and pours himself a cup. He settles next to Dean at the breakfast bar and presses his shoulder against Dean's. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Great," Sam mumbled around his mug. He set it down on the counter before yawning, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm gonna go for a run, come with?"

Dean groans again, making Sam laugh, before tossing back the last of his mug and standing up with a stretch. They both change into shorts, looking at the thermometer and decide it is way too warm for t-shirts, even at seven am. Sarge follows them happily out the front door, keeping pace next to Sam as they jog towards the entrance to their neighborhood.

They get back to the house just after eight. Dean kicks his sneakers off, heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. Sam rolls his eyes, picking up Dean's shoes and putting them neatly in the bottom of the hall closet next to his. Sarge immediately goes to his water dish in the laundry room, and Sam can hear him lapping noisily from the kitchen as he takes the cup Dean passes him.

Dean sets his empty water glass in the sink and leans against the counter, eyeing Sam's shirtless form appreciatively as Sam gulps down the water. As Sam lowers his glass, he quirks his eyebrow at Dean's suggestive stare.

"What?" he asks, placing his glass in the sink next to Dean's.

"I can't appreciate my boyfriend's fine, sweaty body?"

"Mmm, you most definitely can," Sam replies as Dean turns and presses him against the counter with his hips. Dean mouths at his neck, tongue darting out to taste the sweat along his collarbone. Sam moans quietly, and Dean takes it as a sign of encouragement, kissing his way up the side of Sam's neck.

"Dean, I've got a - a meeting at nine," Sam pants out, his speech hitching as Dean nibbles at his earlobe. "I've got to shower."

"Okay," Dean replies simply, not releasing his hold on Sam, turning them both around and walking Sam backwards out of the kitchen. Sam laughs as they bump against the wall in the hallway, Dean taking the opportunity to delve his tongue into Sam's open mouth. Sam's hands come up to hold the back of Dean's head, tilting it for better access. Dean moans and presses his growing erection into Sam's hip. He grunts as Sam slams him against the opposite wall, a tangle of arms and legs. Dean winds his hands through Sam's hair as Sam's long fingers press into the soft skin just below the waistband of Dean's shorts. He pulls away a moment later, Dean's lips chasing his.

"I have to get in the shower or I'm going to be late," Sam tells Dean sternly, trailing a finger down Dean's sternum as he walks away. Dean presses his head back against the wall, a grin splitting his face from ear to ear. He can hear Sam turn on the water, raising his voice so Dean can hear him: "Are you coming or not?"

That afternoon, Dean hesitates in the front seat of his car. He groans, looking out through the windshield at the brick building in front of him. After a moment, he rubs his hand over his face and climbs out of the car, shaking his head.

_Man, I'm going to regret this_, he thinks to himself as he pulls open the glass door. The cheery face that greets him reminds him exactly why he's here, however, and Dean can't help the smile that plays across his lips.

"Hi, I'm Dean Winchester, I'm looking for Dr. Hamilton?" he tells the receptionist, a young, blonde teenager, probably volunteering on a school release program.

"Right this way, she's in her office," the girl tells him as she leads him down a long hallway. Dean follows her into a large, bright office. The back wall is completely windowed, looking out into a large, fenced-in area of bright green grass and scattered toys. Dr. Hamilton stands from her desk and comes around it to shake Dean's hand before gesturing for him to sit.

"Mr. Winchester, I'm glad you came in today. I can honestly say that I didn't expect to see you here."

"Well, ma'am, I didn't expect to be here either," Dean replies with a smile, before setting into the chair and getting down to business.

When Dean gets home two hours later, he parks next to Sam's truck, unsurprised to see him home so early. He pushes open the front door and toes off his boots, setting his keys in the dish on the small table.

"Sammy?" he calls out as he shuffles through the stack of mail next to the dish, purposely taking his time. "You home?"

"In here," Sam voice comes from the living room. Dean smirks as he takes slow, deliberate steps, nearly laughing out loud when he sees Sam. The grown man is lying on the floor, with the dog partly between his legs, the dog's chest on his own. Sam has one arm flung dramatically over his face.

"What's going on, babe?" he asks, feigning concern. Dean walks around the couch and sits on the floor in front of it, crossing his legs at the ankle. He taps Sam's hip with the side of his foot and Sam peeks at him from under his elbow.

"The shelter just called," he begins, pausing and waiting for Dean's reaction, continuing when Dean doesn't bat an eyelash. "Sarge was adopted today."

"Oh really?" Dean puts on a big frown for Sam.

"I guess he'll be leaving tomorrow probably. I don't know, they didn't say. Just that someone adopted him. This sucks. I mean, I knew when I agreed to foster him that eventually this day would come, I just thought that it would be longer. It's only been two months, but now I'm attached. What are you smirking about? You hate the dog that much?"

"Well, I was just thinking that if he's leaving, I'm going to have to return this," Dean replies, pulling something from his pocket and handing it to Sam. Sam flips it over in his hand and peers at it before sitting up suddenly, Sarge rolling gracelessly from his chest and into his lap.

"Wait, is this for real?" Sam asks incredulously, glancing back and forth between the dog tag in his hand and Dean's face. "Are you serious?"

"I'm sure I'll regret it, but yes." Sam presses up from the floor, Sarge getting up with an indignant huff and laying down on the other side of Dean. Sam slides onto Dean's lap, his knees on either side of Dean's hips.

"Thank you so much, babe." Sam's lips meet Dean's softly. "You're the best," he adds, pressing a flurry of kisses to Dean's mouth. "I love you."

"I love you too, Sammy." Dean replies between kisses, smiling under Sam's lips. Sam presses three light kisses across Dean's freckles and beams down at him before rolling off and grabbing up the dog in his arms.

"Hear that, Sarge, you get to stay. I told you Dean's a big softie." Dean laughs, reaching over to scratch behind Sarge's ear as the dog licks from Sam's chin to his eyebrow.


End file.
